AN: I'm sorry it's been so long! You can't hate me, cause I'm procrastinating my Shakespeare, Napoleonic Era, and Respiratory homework to write this and post it…and accepting the fact that I might have to get up at the ungodly hour of six to finish it. Oh, well. You guys are worth it! Thank you so much for the reviews and the support! I know Amethyst requested Huang- he's not in this chapter, but he will appear soon!

I tried to keep the tenses consistent, but good grief, is it ever hard! I'm in English 10, but…they cover tenses so pathetically at my school. It's not even funny.

I want to thank my dear friend and soul sister, SVUFanatic611, for her help andsupport (does that qualify under beta? I think beta's just spelling…) on this chapter. Love ya, girl, and you'll never know how much I value your input!


Queens, New York

March 8th, 9:38 AM

Olivia Benson's POV

I stand in the corner of Martina's room as medics get her on a stretcher, preparing to get her to St. Monica's. I pull out my cell phone, calling Elliot. I know he's at mass, and under any other circumstances, he'd kill me if I called him when I was well aware of the fact that he was at mass. But this isn't an ordinary circumstance. Her family's gone, and she needs someone to be there for her.

Less than an hour ago, I envied her for having the family she did, wishing I could be her.

Now I couldn't be more grateful that I'm not.

I hear Elliot pick up as the medical team starts taking Martina to the ambulance. I run alongside them, preparing myself to break the news to my partner as I run.

"Olivia? What is it? Have you found them?"

"Elliot, get to Saint Monica's."

"What, what's going on? Are they alive?"

"Just get there!" I said, hanging up the phone, jumping into the ambulance, holding Martina's hand, whispering to her as she tries to stay awake, trying to keep her talking.

She's out of danger, I hear someone tell me, but my focus is only on her. She needs to know she's not alone.


St. Monica's Hospital

Queens, New York

March 8th, 9:50 AM

Kathy Stabler's POV

I lean against the nurse's station once again, exhausted, defeated, this time for different reasons then the last time I remember leaning against the counter. I want to pass out. I really shouldn't have come to work, but there's one thing Elliot forgot about Marty. Today's Tuesday. She works here as a candystriper on Tuesday's. I'm doing this for her; helping the people she would have wanted to help. That alone drives me on; I help them for her sake, and, if she's dead, in her memory.

"Kathy," I hear my supervisor say, "Sit down."

She guides me to a chair, but the look on her face gives most of what she's about to say away.

"They're dead, aren't they?" I say, bitterly.

"Martina was the only survivor. Olivia Benson found them in Queens, and Martina should be getting to ER any second. If you promise me that you can remain calm, I'll let you do the rape kit. Promise me that you can remain calm."

"I don't know if I can," I say, sobs threatening to overtake me. I love Martina; I love her with everything in me, but…they're gone?

I see the stretcher, and somehow I know that it's her. I have to help her. She's been through hell, and the last thing she needs is some stranger poking and prodding at her. I look at my supervisor, Doctor Monroe.

"I promise." I say to her, running to meet the stretcher with her, taking over for the ambulance attendants, watching Olivia sink into a waiting room chair.

"…Kathy." Martina gasped out.

I look down at her, forcing myself to smile reassuringly, although I want to cry. She's never needed her mother more, but her mother's gone, as is her father. And it was their will that I take over that position for them. So help me God, I would.

"Hi, sweetheart." I say quietly, reaching to stroke her hair as we pull the stretcher into the nearest examining room.


St. Monica's Hospital

Queens, New York

March 8th, 9:52 AM

Elliot Stabler's POV

I run into the waiting room, praying to God that Olivia's found the Andreas'. Maureen had, thank God, had her car at the cathedral, and she'd taken the kids home only after I'd promised to call them the second I knew anything. Everyone else was still at the church, praying for the grace of God.

I see Olivia. There have been times when I've been relieved to see her, but never have I been so relieved to see my partner.

"Olivia, what happened?"

"Elliot," She said quietly, pointing to the seat beside her. "Sit down."

Slowly, I sit. Her eyes give away nothing, but I think I've known deep down since they went missing.

"We found them, Ell."

"Are they alive?" Is the only thing I can manage to say.

"Only Martina."

I don't know whether to thank God that she's alive, or curse Him because the rest are dead. I choose to thank Him for the fact that she's alive. I'll question everything else later.

"Can I see her?"

"Kathy just took her to do the rape kit."

"So she was…"

Olivia nods, putting her hand on my shoulder as I start to tear up.

"Can I see her after that?"

"Of course."


St. Monica's

March 8th, 10:15 AM

Elliot Stabler's POV

I sit in the waiting room, ready to go crazy. Olivia went in to question Martina fifteen minutes ago. I want to see her so badly. She survived, but how scarred will she be? If I could just see her…I know she's not going to be smiling and laughing, but…just to be able to hold her close and promise her that it's all over will reassure me.

Daniel, my best friend, had watched me the first time I'd held Martina in my arms. He'd asked if, in the event he and his wife were gone, I would be willing to raise Martina. I'd made a promise to him that day, that I would love her as if she were my own child. It was a promise I intended to keep.

"Elliot," I hear Olivia say, "You can see her now."

I practically charge into the room.

Nothing could have stopped me.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. She was there, physically; she was breathing, her eyes were open. But emotionally…her soul was gone. Her eyes, which used to sparkle with the joy of life, were dull and empty. Her once almost always-present smile was replaced by a look of complete sadness. I force myself to push my thoughts away and instead focus on her. For the moment, the room was empty, and she slowly fixed her gaze on me.

"Elliot…?"

"That's right, sweetie." I say, reaching out to squeeze her hand, and sitting just as Kathy comes back into the room. I see the injection kit in her hand, and she notices the questions in my eyes.

"Elliot, I need to talk to you."

I slowly file out of the room.

"What's with the needle?"

Kathy sighs, and from the look on her face, I know it isn't good.

"Elliot, she has severe burns from the waist down."

"Including her…?" I ask, in horror. It wouldn't surprise me. It's happened to women before. But…this was Martina. It wouldn't happen to her. It couldn't. Could it?

"Thank God, no. But her legs…well…she'll walk again, but more than that…who knows? I'm about to put her on a morphine IV, but…one of us should probably be with her in case she wakes up."

Outside, I hope I look concerned. Inside, all I feel is rage. The father of her ex-boyfriend would know that she had been a dancer, had wanted to act on Broadway. You needed to do more than walk in the productions she had wanted to do. He'd shattered her family, her innocence…and now her dreams. I want blood. But that's going to have to wait.

"Okay, let's go do it. The burns were taken care of?" I ask

"While she was in the ambulance. Let's go."

I walk back in. Whatever rage I feel is replaced with a fierce need to protect Martina from the second I laid eyes on her. I sat down beside her, stroking her hair, gently wiping away her tears. Kathy gives me a look, and I know that she's about to tell Martina, so I take Marty's hand.

"Marty," she said quietly, "I'm going to put you on a morphine IV. It's only going to sting for a minute. It's going to make you feel better, and it'll help you sleep. Okay?"

Martina just stared at Kathy, her eyes lifeless until Kathy took the needle out of the packaging. I watched fear flicker in her eyes, and then she started crying.

"Don't…no, please." She started sobbing.

I remember the conversation we had on Sunday, what feels like decades ago. "It's a little piece of metal that stings for maybe two seconds." She'd never been afraid of needles. Ever…so why was she afraid now?

"Martina, what happened?" I ask.

She cries harder.

"He drugged me before he…I couldn't move…I could feel everything, but I couldn't fight him off! It hurt so much!" She cried, gasping for air.

"Marty, I'm never going to let him hurt you again." I say, wanting so badly to know all of what he did. But what I want isn't important right now, "I promise you."

She started sobbing even harder; shaking from the force of her sobs.

"I promise you." I soothe.

My heart's breaking. What did he do to her? I want more than anything to pull her into my arms, rock her, and promise her that she's going to be fine; that it was all just a nightmare. But I can't promise her that, because it wasn't.

"I'm so scared." She admits, shaking.

"It's going to be alright, Marty," Kathy offers, taking her other hand. "It's going to help you feel better. Okay?"

Martina nodded, obviously afraid. I try to comfort Martina as Kathy walks towards her, and takes her arm, preparing to inject the needle. Somehow I find myself wanting yet not wanting to know what is going through her mind.

"Shh…it's okay." I whisper, stroking her hair.

She keeps crying, and for the first time in my life, I don't know how to comfort someone. For me it's always been impersonal; it's never been someone so close to me. Memories of her family are running through her mind; I can see it in her eyes. They're running through mine as well. I remember Daniel. We had taken Spanish together in high school, and had become good friends in our senior year. His parents would often speak Spanish around the house. He spoke it fluently, and he had taught it to all of his children. Martina was the only fluent one, and they consistently spoke it together. Whenever she'd been sad, whenever she'd had a hard day, he'd speak it…

I'll never be able to replace Daniel, but what could it hurt? Thank God I'd paid attention in Spanish.

".El novia, estara bien. .Sera por todas partes. .Tengo razon aqui."

Her eyes meet mine in understanding before they close. I sigh in relief at the fact that, for the first time since I've seen her, there was a small amount of peace in her eyes.

"Sleep well, sweetie." I whisper, pulling the covers up to her chin, and kissing her forehead.

Kathy sobbed, running from the room.

"Kathy," I call, running after her, "Kathy?"

I follow her as she runs outside. I watch her as she leans over a trashcan and loses whatever little she's eaten in the last few hours. She falls over, crying, and I run to her.

"Kath…?"

"She was just a kid, Ell!" She sobbed, "She was just a little girl, and now…"

I'm shocked when my soon-to-be ex-wife falls into my arms and sobs. I try to comfort her, but…what do you say?

"I know, Kath."

"What do we do?"

I sigh. I've been wondering the same thing since I've found out that Marty's alive.

"We keep the promise we made Daniel and Marianna."


English translation of the Spanish:

Sweetheart, it's going to be okay. It's all over. I'm right here.

So, what did you all think? I'd love to have your input, and it's always nice to open your e-mail and see lots of (longer better!) reviews! Please be constructive; offer advice and ideas, but don't flame me. Andyes, I know that this chapter was practically all Elliot's POV. What can I say? I find it easy to get into his head.